


Medical Leave

by Silverlace_Vine



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Size Kink, Slash, Team Bonding, Thor's feels, pre-serum steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlace_Vine/pseuds/Silverlace_Vine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident leaves Steve back in his pre-serum form, and he's not happy about what that means for his role on the team, or what he's afraid it means for his relationship with Thor.</p><p>Written originally for the Avengers kink meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medical Leave

 

 

 

"I thought I would find you here. This darkness suits you ill, my friend."

Steve looked up from his gin to find Thor leaning lazily in the taproom doorway in a borrowed tank top and jeans. Damn him. Figures the one dilapidated, abandoned bar he felt comfortable drinking in was the across the street from the hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant Thor had fallen in love with.

It had probably been a nice place before the Chitauri hit it, once upon a time. Most of the liquor had been looted long ago, except for the stuff in the padlocked steel cooler that Steve, figuring it would go to waste otherwise, had broken into. Since then it had become his own private watering hole, when he felt melancholy enough to need a drink. Tonight it was Bombay Sapphire, which came in a blue bottle and tasted bitter and Steve felt it appropriate.

But today was different; it was well after dark, and light from billboards and streetlamps and office buildings pierced between the boards on the windows. It cast a dim glow on the pool table and the hopelessly ruined jukebox, and left the taproom in a soft, ambient blue, interrupted with bright columns of light falling in from the ceiling.

"Thor... look, I .. I really appreciate you coming down here, but I'm _really_ not in a great place for a pep talk." He let his fingers-- his thin, narrow, bony fingers-- curl around the tumbler.

"What better place is there for one, than the bottom of that bottle?" Thor sauntered to the little table and filled up the rickety chair across from Steve, and where normally he represented an endlessly smiling torrent of strength, today he was just yet another smug slab of meat, looking down his nose at the little guy. "Foolishness is drinking alone, give me leave to join you and make wisdom of it."

Thor poured himself a shot of gin, apparently not grasping the significance of someone Steve's size telling the bartender to just leave the bottle, or the fact that he was at a table and not the actual bar (mainly because he was too embarrassed to sit on a stool and leave his feet dangling as if he were in a booster seat). He knocked it back like it was water, and turned that damnably un-burdened smile on the now-much-smaller man before him as though he were doing anyone a favor.

"Is drinking with someone else what passes for wisdom in Asgard?" Steve took a mouthful of his own glass and realized his mouth must be smaller, because it was all he could drink in one breath and it still wasn't even half the contents.

"No, but it paves a road for wisdom to follow." Thor's smile faded a bit. "...I am sorry this is such a terrible loss for you, my friend; I shall miss your presence on the battlefield even as I am proud to hear your voice over the communication devices."

"... Thor. I'm not fit to be part of this team anymore. S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to discharge me over this. They'll ship me off somewhere, they'll call it medical leave to make me feel better, but... I'm useless. Like before. I can't just cheat an exam to try again, you know?" Steve glowered into his glass again. It had been a stupid combination of accidents; he'd crashed his bike, which wasn't such a big deal. He'd broken a few bones, which had been more unpleasant than he remembered now that his bones were thick as tree branches and tougher than steel, but even that wasn't so bad. The neck-to-hip-gash across his chest and stomach from going headfirst through a plate glass window was messy and painful and God, there had been _so much blood_.

But, of all things, it was the ambulance that had effectively killed Captain America. The ambulance, two on-the-ball EMTs, and a fresh supply of Type O Positive.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. medical team were baffled, a blood transfusion shouldn't have been enough to completely remove the serum from Steve's body, but he'd nearly exsanguinated from the glass. They were already working overtime to cover up the sheer amount of red splattered all over Manhattan, not to mention the witnesses who saw Steve's severed jugular spraying rooster-tails shortly before he got up to collect the remains of his poor vintage bike.

Thankfully, he hadn't lost all the serum's benefits; he didn't seem to tire easily, he definitely didn't have asthma, and it'd been about a month and a half and he hadn't gotten horribly sick yet, so that was a plus. But no super strength, no super stamina, no healing factor. He was suddenly the same skinny little turd Bucky was saving from beatings in parking lots again. Eventually, Steve's cells could regenerate the effects of the serum on their own, but Bruce and Tony estimated it would probably be at least a year, more likely two or three depending on how his body handled the change, if it happened at all. So far there wasn't much improvement, and Steve was running low on hope.

"If they do, we will abandon S.H.I.E.L.D.," Thor replied, as surely and soundly as he would if he were declaring the sky to be blue. He poured himself another shot and knocked it back like he meant it to punctuate his sentence.

"...What?"

Thor nodded. "We have already discussed it, the others and I. If it is decided that you can no longer be an Avenger, then we can no longer be Avengers either."

" _What_?!" Steve found himself all but leaping to his feet, though his jump was perhaps not nearly as pronounced or prodigious as it would have been two months ago. "You can't just abandon the war because you lose one soldier! Is that how they do things where you're from? One goes down, so you just give up?"

Thor had no real response to this, just a slightly surprised expression, taken aback by Steve's sudden need to raise his voice in such a way. He answered by refreshing their drinks, and didn't bother correcting him because he knew Steve didn't mean it.

"Excuse me. I didn't mean to yell." Steve sat back down, feeling mildly chastised, but he took a mouthful of gin and deflated a little further, reminded that his mouthful wasn't even a half a shot anymore. "But you can't just quit, Thor. I'm dead weight now, that means everything I was doing, it.. it has to be all of you, now, on top of what you're already doing. You can't just leave the slack. You'll have to step up as leader, you're the only one who knows how-- you can't leave it to Stark, he's ... he's a hot dog, is what he is, and he could learn if he had to but that's not him, that's not where his strength is, and you have to stick close to Natasha because she's fast and you'll lose sight of her if y--"

Thor reached over and put his hand on top of Steve's. It seemed huge, and heavy, and warm, and it brought a little color to the tips of the smaller man's ears. It usually did, whenever they were close; Asgard didn't seem to have a lot of social limits on touch and closeness, but it had a specific kind of balance to it. He'd explained it once, that the strong and the weak do not touch except to fight and decide which is which, unless there was love to bridge the power gap. 

And since then they had shared... something. It wasn't a relationship that had a name as far as Steve knew, one that traded slow, liquid kisses and playfully wrestled all over the furniture. He'd assumed it was over when he woke up two heads shorter and two hundred pounds lighter, but there was Thor's hand, firm and weighty around his own.

Knowing that, Steve shut his mouth, and watched the broad fingers close over his, gently but without holding back the strength in his grip. "If there is no Captain America, there shall be no Avengers. We shall rename the Tower after Tony Stark, because it was his domain first. We shall retire there and we shall save the world from it like we always have, and we shall do it without S.H.I.E.L.D., because S.H.I.E.L.D. is not our leader. _You_ are our leader. And where you go, we follow."

Steve sank a little. That was treason. Mutiny. Dissension in the ranks. And it was humbling and humiliating and heartwarming all at once. "...You don't understand, Thor. The serum...the serum is the _only thing_ I had going for me in combat. I wouldn't survive out there, not with the things that we deal with. I'm.. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to get you to understand. I know you've lost your powers before, but even without them you were still--- _you_ , look at you! You're six and a half feet of muscle! You fought your way through a whole army of agents with nothing but your bare hands, even when you were mortal. I can't keep up like this, and by the time I find another way or build myself up even to something like _average_... it'll be impossible for me to catch up." He picked up his gin and gulped it all down, determined to do it even though it burned his throat and nose and made his eyes water. "I can't be your leader if I can't go with you to the front, I can't ask you to do something that I can't do myself."

"Odin is my king and we have never ridden into battle together, and yet I would go into the deepest, darkest pits in all the worlds at his command, and he has never hesitated to tell me what is best done with Mjolnir."

"He's also your _father_ , Thor."

"And that matters far less in battle than his crown, Steven."

Thor still hadn't moved his hand. "My friend, you fret too much. My time in Midgard imparted a lesson that I will not soon forget, that strength alone is not enough. The battles may be harder without you and your shield, and your absence will be sorely felt, yes. But what we have in you is a true soldier, something I am told was in your core long before the serum ever touched your skin, and that we can find a way to put to use even without your feet on the ground or in harm's way. If we lose Captain America we can continue on, but we can ill afford the loss of Steve Rogers."

"...What about you, Thor?" Steve let his eyes follow the line of their linked hands to Thor's face, and felt very small, and very vulnerable. When he spoke his voice was barely audible, even in the empty stillness of the ruined bar. "... You can't possibly want... _this_ ," he murmured, and gestured to the whole of his body.

"Think you that being smaller means there is less of you to want?" Thor seemed to straighten a little at this, the first sign yet that he was upset by any of it. "Do you think so little of my love that it would flourish or wither with your wellness?"

Steve found himself struck silent by that, and he might have tried to argue, but Thor suddenly tensed, grabbed the Bombay Sapphire, and proceeded to chug the entire bottle before hurling it at the wall. It shattered into bits and Steve all but jumped from his chair.

"I am... I am glad it happened," Thor spat, and there was shame in it, but no remorse. He'd worked up the courage to do it, and he'd said it, and the words popped like a firecracker and dimmed to a guilty silence.

"... What?" The smaller man sank back down in his chair, the beginnings of hurt and betrayal trickling down to his fingertips and the pool of his stomach. "... _Why_? What was all that you were just saying? How can you be happy that I'm _nothing_?"

"Because you shall not be in danger!" He reached for Steve's shoulder and clasped it tight enough to bruise, despite his attempts to be gentle. "You are not _nothing_ , you are no closer to _nothing_ in my eyes than you were before you were felled by that... that _mishap_. You go into battle with no armor, with no magic, you cannot fly and every minute of every battle your mind must be divided between what is in front of you and what is in front of each of us. I cannot stop that because that is the nature of battle and it sings in me, in all of us, but you are _human_ , you are _mortal_. Even if I knew whether the men of Midgard go to Valhalla when they die in battle, I know your heart is with your Christ Jesus. I know little enough of him, but I know he has not the audacity to refuse you at his table when the time comes."

Thor bowed his head, and the hand that rested on Steve's shoulder slid upward to his cheek. "I have _never_ thought you weak. But I have always known you were mortal, and that one day I would have to lose you, whether to age or a wound or sickness or worse. Forgive me, my friend, my words must be venom in your ears, but at least now I can hope to have a little more time with you. Make it a gift to me if you must, and demand I find a way to repay it, but please... give me your permission to love the man you have always been."

The hand on the side of his face was warm and strangely reassuring, and shyly, cautiously, he turned his head to brush his lips against Thor's palm. His hands found their way into the soft locks of Thor's hair, and he considered his permission given.

All at once, Thor was touching him, and it was strange and a little frightening. He was huge, his hands were so heavy, and they took up so much more of his body. They wandered over the fabric of his shirt as they leaned close together, close enough to feel one another's breath, but Steve wouldn't dare move forward to kiss him; he wanted to, he wanted to, but how would it feel? Even his face felt thinner, smaller, flimsy; would Thor's whiskers scratch him? Or worse, would he bruise just from that contact...

Steve shrank a little when Thor's fingers found his ribs under his button-up, when they traced the square of his bony shoulders and the jutting arches of his hips. It was shameful and embarrassing to have hands on this narrow, scrawny body when those hands belong to a demigod, but Thor laughed and shook his head.

"No, no; don't shy from me, friend," he breathed, and "friend" seemed not at all the right word for that low tone of voice. "I like this body, too."

"It's not--"

"It is. Do you feel this?" Thor's hand gently slid over Steve's stomach, flat with only the faintest cording of muscle.

"Y-yeah."

"And this?" That hand wandered up to his chest, while the other found the small of his back. Steve felt his own heart pounding against Thor's palm.

"Mm."

"Then it is a perfectly good body, then, is it not?"

That first kiss came slowly, cautious not for the sake of not breaking Steve in half like he fears, but more to prove that Thor wanted it, wanted him, that nothing had changed. He laughed when he had to stoop a little to do it, and soon Steve found himself with a very roomy lap to sit in. 

And he was so small, thin and wiry and almost weightless, but the thin softness of his lips as Thor coaxed them open with his tongue was so inviting he might as well have been sampling the smaller man like a dessert. Steve pulled close, having a broad range of shoulders and arms to hold onto, fidgeted and moved until he found a comfortable place on Thor's thighs...and suddenly Steve discovered the one upside to losing the effects of the Serum, as it began to make itself known in the tight confines of Thor's jeans.

The healing factor had given sex a whole new set of benefits, but constantly regenerating meant he couldn't open up like he really wanted, couldn't be fucked loose and ready; even lube only did so much to ease the way. And now, he was half his own size and Thor was already well-endowed, and Thor still wanted him and the proof was pressing itself against his backside through a layer of worn denim and it still felt hot to the touch.

Steve let his forehead drop against Thor's neck, his breath already coming quick and warm. "I-- I know it was fine, before, but..." His ears darkened. "..I think I... I need... something to, ah.. if we're going to..."

The Norse god chuckled darkly against Steve's ear. "I see; leave it to me."

The shirt came away easily enough, and Thor was able to tug Steve out of his slacks with almost no effort at all. He picked the smaller man up to set him on the table, kneeling on all fours. It was awkward, and it was lewd, and if it weren't for the lack of serum he might have broken the table under his weight, but then Thor gently pushed his shoulders down until they hit the tabletop. It left his backside up in the air and his chest flat beneath him, and Steve had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in his life.

And then he felt Thor's tongue gently pressing against the tight ring of muscle, wet and soft; it made Steve jump, but with that hand still keeping him held safely still against the table, there was little he could do but focus on relaxing. Each stroke of Thor's tongue made it easier, teasing the sensitive skin and, very slowly, guiding him open enough to push inside. Steve squirmed with it; it was so indecent but it felt good, the pleasure of being stretched by something pliable and wet on top of feeling as if Thor were being so gentle not because he was fragile, but because he was valuable, worth treasuring this way.

Somehow between the soft licks of Thor's tongue into his hole and being held firmly in place, Steve managed to spread his legs wider and force his shoulders lower. In answer, that tongue slid deeper inside, smooth and slick, slowly in and out to leave him ready and aching. He wanted to beg for more, to tell Thor that he felt more opened and slick than he'd ever been, but when he managed enough breath to whimper, "Thor-- I'm ready, please--I need--", he could feel the taller man stand, and the brush of his hair as he shook his head.

"Not yet," he explained, and his voice was low with desire already. "I know you could withstand it, but "withstanding" is not what I mean for you to do tonight."

Steve whimpered in protest, but he was cut short by a finger sliding inside of him-- just one, and made him feel more full than anything he'd ever had. It wasn't enough, it wasn't what he wanted, but right now it was all he could do just to moan aloud and try to grip the edges of the table for balance. Everything felt so much more sensitive; maybe the Serum had more to do with his ability to tolerate pain than anyone had realized.

Slowly, so painfully slowly, Thor leaned over Steve's back and let his fingers slide in and out of his slicked hole, allowing himself a pleased, approving growl as the smaller man's spine dipped in a silent request to be fucked deeper, his hips rocking back and forth shallowly to meet the rhythm Thor had set. By now he was loose, his neglected cock standing red and dripping, his breath coming in warm, little gasps and whimpers.

When he heard Thor unzip his jeans, Steve just outright moaned, because oh God he even sounded longer and thicker, and he'd be able to take it all because he was open and ready and wanting, and everything he needed was so close.

The hand on his back disappeared for a moment, and then he was pulling Steve back up and turning him to sit in his lap. He felt smaller this way, but that was what Thor wanted: he meant to stand and pin him to the table, but the smaller man swallowed, and raised up a little on his knees, leaning forward enough to brush his lips against Thor's ear.

He whispered, quietly and warm with pleasure and shaky with embarrassment, as if he thought anyone on the street might have heard him, "I-- I want... to ride you..."

Thor didn't have to be asked twice, and without hesitation, he lifted Steve up with easy, powerful strength, aligned their hips, and then steadily eased him down onto his thick cock. Steve almost went weak in his limbs, feeling Thor slide so deep inside him, stretching him even further, so tight and so hard . He tried for words, to beg for Thor to give it to him, to fuck him, to push him down, but he couldn't manage it; not like this, not in this body.

Instead, Steve took Thor's hands in his own and set them on his hips-- oh God his thumbs could almost meet just below his navel, they were so huge-- and just murmured, "H-hold on, okay?"

Thor couldn't manage words beyond a slight nod and a low growl of pleasure into Steve's hair, grateful that for all the difference the serum had made, it hadn't changed the way he smelled, sweat and Palmolive soap and, for the moment, the sharp scent of gin.

They moved together, Thor giving Steve a slow, easy rhythm, Steve sinking and rising on his knees and letting his lack of strength work in his benefit. Each slide down drove Thor deeper inside, his muscles relaxed and pliable and able to take every inch, each slide up pressed his own throbbing, aching cock against the solid, flat expanse of Thor's stomach and gave him that edge of friction. For all the gentle pace and the preparation and making sure that Steve's body could open enough to take it as he liked, Thor felt him gripping tight and hot and strong around his length.

Thor gradually let himself relax into a slouch in the chair, his shoulders against the back and his legs stretched out in front of him; Steve paid it no mind beyond a practiced shift of balance. He let his forehead drop against Thor's hair, murmuring soft, filthy nothings into it as their hips rocked against each other, and all of a sudden he felt Thor's arms wrapping around him, pulling him close to his chest.

He moaned outright, his back arching as Thor began to thrust into him, deep and hard, the way he only did when he was ready to come; Steve felt him sliding easily in and out, the way slick with saliva and precome and his own need. He bent his lips to Thor's ear to spur him on, urging him to come in him, to come for him, he's so close--

One last thrust pulled Thor's cock inside of him to the base, arms tight around him, and the thick rush of wet heat deep inside his body set off Steve's own climax, all but screaming into the side of the Asgardian's neck.

It passed slowly, the intensity of it leaving them shaken, and they had made a fantastic mess but it hardly mattered; all Thor cared about was holding his smaller shield-lover, of having him, of holding him after the snap of all the tension had left him relaxed and exhausted. "Do you see, now?" he asked, and is almost shy with it, as if Steve might have said "no". "I love and want this body for the soul that resides within it."

Steve smiled and nodded, finding himself wrapped in warm, powerful arms and dusted with soft, bristly kisses, and figured maybe he could take a few years of this while he's on "medical leave". If it was like this every time... he might need the time off to recover.

 

 


End file.
